


Isadore

by Amlika



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fem!Kai, female - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 23:35:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6260512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amlika/pseuds/Amlika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everywhere Kris touches Kai, he nibbles, teases, sucks and leaves a trail of pink marks like smeared petals on her tanned skin. </p><p>A quick Kris and fem!Kai drabble, inspired by the Incubus song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isadore

In the muted light of his apartment’s hallway, Kris lifts her chin with his fingers. "Don't hide your face. Let me see you." 

Her bashful yet defiant gaze meets his from behind her cascading wave of long, pink hair softly framing her face and curling up below her exposed cleavage. 

"Why do you always leave the lights on? I never like it," she whispers, and the breathlessness of her voice makes Kris quiver. 

"Because I want to see your every reaction." Kris pushes her against the nearest wall and murmurs into her ear. He brushes her hair aside hastily, and starts to trace the side of her face with his lips as a long trembling sigh escapes her.

His lips move down to her delicate collarbones and linger. The stunning satin black dress he bought her for dinner is now just an irritating obstacle, and he roughly pulls it down to expose her bare breasts, getting a strange sense of satisfaction at the faint sound of seams ripping. 

Everywhere Kris touches her, he nibbles, teases, sucks and leaves a trail of pink marks like smeared petals on her tanned skin. He enjoys the thought of leaving imprints all over her body, long after their every encounter. 

 

His Isadore. A beautiful wild creature that always returns to him like a vision in the night, trembling in his hands as he navigates every part of her body. He likes to make her moan, sometimes out of pleasure, other times pleadingly, full of yearning, dripping wet with desire and begging him to take her. The sense of control is exhilarating, memorable long after she leaves.

Yet Kris has always known that despite all her submissiveness and apprehension, Isadore has been the one in control throughout this "zipless fuck" of a relationship, as she calls it. 

She's the one that suggested meeting up, after chatting on Twitter for a few months over Bernard Weber and Erica Jong, under the alias name of Isadore. Kris remembers the first time he spotted her, at the tiny wine bar in Myeongdong, in a plain white shirt and ripped jeans. 

She was fidgeting with a paper coaster nervously, ripping it into tiny little pieces. No makeup, long black hair tied up neatly in a ponytail. She looked up as Kris walked towards her, biting her lower lip so hard that he thought it would bleed. But then a glimmer of courage sparked in her eyes, and a sad smile bloomed on her innocent face and beckoned for him to whisk her away immediately. 

Kris has always wondered if she knew how alluring she looked in that moment, in her perplexing state of vulnerability and desire. Probably not. Just like most of his other observations of her, it was a fleeting snapshot that she didn't wish to share with anyone, especially him. 

That night, in his expansive but empty modern condo, surrounded by the darkness, all her shyness evaporated, and was replaced by an overwhelming hunger that consumed both of them. The coldness of the concrete floor, the wetness of her mouth sucking on his fingers, the softness of her long swaying hair as she rode him with her eyes closed. All Kris can remember now are fragments of that night, vivid and tantalizing, as Isadore transformed into another person. 

He thought it was just going to be another one-night stand on his long list of careless conquests. But she kept in touch, a few times a month, the communication always brief and to the point. Always late at night, usually at his place, and she never spoke much.

 

Kris loves experimenting with her, loves watching her quickly lose control under all his manipulations. He knows a kiss on her ear or behind her knee will make her tremble. And that she likes long torturous foreplays but hard and urgent lovemaking. Sometimes he ties her hands up over her head, and torments her slowly with his tongue and fingers until she cries in submission.

But no matter how elaborately Kris teases her or pretends to not give into her pleas, all she has to do is lock eyes with him. All his self-control would crumble, while his urges takes over like he’s a clumsy teenager again. 

Losing control is not something Kris is used to. 

All his life everything has always been in order and to his liking. He grew up with wealth and affluence, drifting from city to city but always hung out with a privileged crowd. After dabbling in writing out of sheer boredom, Kris became an overnight sensation when his murder mystery novel was adapted for a hit TV series in Seoul. He married once but both their hearts were not in it, him out partying every night, and her eventually cheating on him with a mutual friend. It was all very cliche and best forgotten. 

On his recent thirty-first birthday trip in Europe, surrounded by a beautiful young crowd as superficial and hollow as himself, Kris thought he really had all life could offer. So it was quite shocking when he caught himself looking forward to seeing Isadore again after every encounter. This unassuming girl that never told him a thing about her real life, and only truly came alive when they were alone in bed. Sometimes he finds himself catching a glimpse of someone that reminds him of her—a graceful dancer-like stance, a sad but determined gaze—only to realize it's just another stranger. It's never her.

And to think, he doesn't even know her real name. 

 

When Isadore calls to meet up that night, Kris can tell something is different about her. 

She picks a romantic seaside pedestrian area, and shows up with her pretty long hair colored in a soft shade of pink that shimmers in the sunset. They walk around languidly along the waterfront, two strangers used to sharing the most intimate moments with each other. Maybe it’s the salty ocean breeze, or perhaps the families and couples around them that radiate love and romance, but Kris feels like he temporarily possesses someone else's life, a beautiful dream where he has a love that's too precious to lose. 

"What's the occasion? Have you finally asked me out on a date?" He teases. 

Isadore smiles, her voice gentle but nonchalant. "Maybe. I wanted to spend a perfect day in Seoul." 

"I'm glad you asked me then," Kris responds. "The new hair is very pretty by the way, I love it." 

She twirls the soft long strands of hair between her slender fingers and blushes, as she looks into the fiery sunset. "Thank you. I've always wanted to have pink hair and never had a chance."

When they walk past a row of chic little dress shops, Isadore pauses by the window display to look at a pretty black dress. Modern lines, v-cut neckline, structured skirt that fans out and ends dangerously mid-thigh. It's a beautiful piece, simple but suggestive. Kris is surprised when Isadore walks into the shop and tries on the dress. He is even more surprised when he offers to pay for everything, Isadore agrees. 

"Wow, I can't believe of all the gifts I've offered, these are the ones you actually accept. We should really come here more," Kris jokes as they walk out of the store.

She adjusts the neckline and looks at him timidly. "Thank you for the gifts. I want to look my best tonight. Everything looks ok?" 

The black dress perfectly frames her slim yet curvy silhouette, showcasing her long legs that draw plenty of attention from other men on the street. Kris looks at the tall demure beauty in front of him, and suddenly has the strange urge of covering her up with his jacket and taking her home. He wants to preserve her unawareness of her own beauty and keep her to himself, away from the rest of the world. 

"You look more than ok, baby,” he says. “You are stunning." 

A few hours later, as they share dessert after a romantic ocean-side dinner, Kris is still in disbelief at how amazing this first date has turned out. Unwinding and enjoying herself after a few glasses of Chardonnay, Isadore is just as witty as Kris remembers from their online conversations, as they chat over favorite authors and Kris' many traveling adventures. The sound of her laughter mixed with the echoes of the crashing waves, the reflection of flickering candlelight in her pretty brown eyes, the feel of her soft skin as he holds her hand. Kris tries to remember every moment of the night, as he watches Isadore relax and blossom into the girl he always knew she was all along. 

 

Back at the apartment, Isadore wraps her long legs tightly around Kris' waist as he takes her against the hallway’s wall. Her fingers dig into his back and she begs for more. Waves of pleasure take over as she thrusts her hips into him insatiably, her breasts spilling out of the mangled dress and brushing against his chest with each urgent move. 

When they are both finally exhausted and spent, Kris carries her to bed. With her head resting by his shoulder, they are both silent and lost in thoughts for a while. 

Finally, Kris gives her a soft peck on her forehead and interrupts the silence. "Can't fall asleep?" 

Isadore remains quiet for some moment. 

Just when Kris thinks she's drifting asleep, her gentle voice, barely a whisper, breaks the darkness. "My divorce papers were finally signed this week." 

He always suspected that she was married, but never asked. Surprisingly, the words still make an impact, but he stays silent to let her continue. 

"We've known each other for twelve years now. When I first met Yixing, we were so young and naive. We thought love was forever." The sadness in her voice makes him hold her just a little tighter. 

"Then in college, after one drunken night, I was pregnant. Yixing was ecstatic, and so proud, but I - " Her voice becomes a little shaky as a sob escapes her. "I wasn't ready. I wanted to explore the world, to become a journalist for a major news agency, to make something of my life. I ended the pregnancy."

She shifts a bit in his embrace. "I know, how selfish, right? Years after, no matter what we tried, I could never conceive again. I guess that's karma." 

In the dark, with the streetlights shining dimly through the bedroom windows, Kris can make out Isadore's face, a familiar sad smile on the corner of her mouth. He quietly kisses away her tears. 

"Yixing never blamed me for anything, but he was never able to talk about the whole thing. I wanted him to yell at me, to mourn together over the baby I never deserved. I'd take anything. But instead, he chose to close himself up, and drifted away over the years."

She is silent again. 

Kris can feel her body tense up, as her thoughts wander. Finally he speaks. "Did he ask for the divorce?" 

"No, I did. About a year ago. Do you know what it feels like to watch the one you love suffer for years alone, knowing you are the reason for his suffering?” She closes her eyes in anguish. “He was the perfect husband, always took care of me and my family. But there was an invisible wall that stopped me from getting to him. Most of the time he was even hesitant to touch me."

Kris sighs and stays quiet. 

Isadore's voice is calm and controlled again, as if she's narrating a story about someone else. "It took me too long to realize that instead of trying to work it out in vain, we were probably both better off with a fresh start. I think even though Yixing agreed deep down inside, I still broke his heart. It took him a year to finally sign the divorce papers." 

Kris wants to tell her that it wasn't anyone's fault. That she deserves to be loved again, this time freely and completely, without all the guilt and fear of being rejected. He wants to open up his heart, and tell her that she's not the only one lonely and confused in life. 

But he has never been good with spoken words. They always feel sloppy and inadequate coming out of his mouth, a mocking shadow of what he truly feels inside. 

So instead, Kris gently brushes away the tear streaks on her face, and kisses her. Lightly, and slowly, on her forehead, eyelids, cheeks, then lips. Kisses that are full of warmth and love, to chase away the melancholy. 

Her lips feel frozen, involuntarily responding to the kiss as she drowns in her memories. But slowly Isadore comes back to him, trembling lips seeking for the warmth and lust of another human being. It’s at that moment Kris finally understands his fascination with her. 

It was never about the zipless fuck, as Isadore had tried so hard to maintain. Their bodies have always known this truth right from the start, as the zippers peeled apart and their clothes unraveled. She has always been seeking for the approval and trust of another person. For the first time in his life, Kris has been able to provide that, unconditionally, without the burden of all the complications his life usually brings. 

In the darkness, their hands longingly search out for every part of each other. Kisses intertwined with the saltiness of tears. He spoons her from behind as she guides him to enter her again. Breathing into her ear, Kris slows his pace to observe her reaction as his fingers busy to pleasure her. When her hands, gripping the side of the bed, tighten and her moans turn into sharp gasps, he quickens his thrusts and feels the climax take over them both. The ripples of pleasure make the rest of the world seem so distant and insignificant, if just for a brief moment. 

 

When Kris wakes up the next day, he lies still and embraces the emptiness of the bedroom. Without looking he can tell Isadore is gone, her side of the bed cold as usual. 

Sitting up, he notices a note on the nightstand. Isadore's handwriting is neat and orderly.

Hi Kris, 

Thank you, for helping me through the loneliest part of my life. I quit my boring day job and got hired to do journalistic work for a big news agency. I leave tomorrow on my first assignment. Last night was my goodbye. I hope you’re not angry. Please know that I'll never forget you, and if we never meet again…

Don't be afraid Kris. If I could change my life, anyone can. You deserve happiness too, so much of it. 

Love, Kai

Kris sits by the side of the bed, and reads the note over carefully a few more times, letting each word sink in. He mouths her name out silently, like a secret too delicate to be spoken out loud. 

Finally, he gets up and walks through the impeccable but starkly sterile apartment, to the study. 

It's been so long since Kris has written anything meaningful, but now he can feel all his thoughts bubbling to the surface and overwhelming his mind. So he lets them out the best way he knows how. Staring at the glowing laptop screen in front of him, he slowly begins to type and watches as the first paragraph of his next new novel takes shape. 

She climbs aboard the air balloon in front of her, and sets her sights on a perilous voyage to an unknown land. A new life beginning on a strange shore. And the world will know her by the name of Isadore.


End file.
